


It's Not Hate

by thekingslover



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Early Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Fade to Black, M/M, Prompt Fill, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25841851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover
Summary: They’ve only been traveling together a dozen years or so, barely any time at all, and Yusuf is still fairly confident that he hates this man beside him.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 18
Kudos: 424





	It's Not Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my nickyjoe tumblr sideblog, monicashipsnickyjoe. Main blog is thekingslover.
> 
> The prompt was "“fuck you” and one of them replying “fuck me yourself you coward.”"

They’ve only been traveling together a dozen years or so, barely any time at all, and Yusuf is still fairly confident that he hates this man beside him. 

Andromache, when she finds them, insists that they are no longer enemies. That they are now as good as family. But she hasn’t known Nicolo as long as Yusuf. She couldn’t possibly understand how insufferable he is. How he carries himself all holier-than-thou, standing tall, chin raised, with his hand loosely draped over the hilt of his sword. How he speaks in clipped, measured sentences even when Yusuf attempts to engage with him in his native tongue. And how he _stares_ , won’t stop staring even after Yusuf catches him. 

Andromache leaves them, but only after making them each promise aloud, “I will not kill him.” 

Shortly after she is gone, they are accosted by bandits on the road.

Yusuf stands at Nicolo’s back. He may hate this man but he has resolved that he will never abandon or betray him. Together, moving as if of one arm, one body, they cut down their enemies.

As they stand among the corpses, heaving from the strain of the fight, they glance at each other. A moment passes. Yusuf looks away, looks back. Nicolo continues to stare.

He hasn’t lowered his sword. 

“Do you wish to fight me, Nicolo?”

“Do you?” Nicolo says. 

Yusuf hasn’t lowered his scimitar, either. “You first.”

Nicolo narrows his eyes. For a moment he stands still as a statue, and Yusuf thinks he might have to kill him again, despite his promise to Andromache. But then, slowly, he lowers his longsword.

A flash of black and a blade appears behind Nicolo. Had he not downed them all? Had he not checked? 

Yusuf cannot think. His body moves on its own, driven by an impulse he didn’t know he had. Protect Nicolo. Always protect Nicolo.

He lifts his scimitar, pouncing forward. Nicolo makes a gasp of alarm and raises his sword.

It stabs straight through Yusuf’s chest. But Yusuf lets it. Only this way can he reach behind Nicolo in time. Swinging around him, he removes the attacker’s head from his shoulders.

Nicolo’s eyes are on him again, wide with worry. They are the last thing Yusuf sees as he coughs blood and slumps forward.

Nicolo catches him and he dies.

When he wakes again, he is sitting upright against a tree. Nicolo kneels beside him. His hand is warm on the side of Yusuf’s face though his gaze is elsewhere.

“I apologize,” Nicolo says. “I should have…” A breath. “I reacted poorly.”

“You killed me.”

“Yes.” Nicolo is looking at the dirt, and Yusuf hates that. How often he gives eye contact, except now, when delivering an apology.

Yusuf bats his hand away. He’s irrationally angry, ready to punch Nicolo straight in the face, but it takes him a few breaths to fully understand why. It’s not that Nicolo killed him. He jumped first. It was an accident of misguided self-defense.

“You did not check that they were dead.”

Nicolo blinks. “What?”

“Those bandits. If you had checked.” Yusuf shoves himself to his feet. Irritation floods out of him. “How easily you could have been killed for such a stupid mistake!”

Nicolo pushes himself to his feet. For the first time, the priestly veneer over his face cracks. He’s not so high-and-mighty with a crumpled brow and a deep frown.

“How you managed to survive for as long as you have is a mystery!” Yusuf continues, unable to stop himself now. Flashes of Nicolo being killed are behind his eyelids. He tries to keep his eyes open instead, but they sting. “You are like a newborn with a blade!”

“Since when,” Nicolo says - more measured words that infuriate Yusuf so much he must step away, only to immediately return, “do you care about my well being?”

The words scratch over Yusuf’s skin, prickling all his nerves. He lifts a finger, points it right at Nicolo’s chest. “Oh, _fuck_ you.” Did he not just die for this man? Did he not -

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”

Yusuf’s thoughts scramble to a halt. He’s still holding his finger up, still pointing. Slowly, he lowers it. “What did you say?”

Nicolo is a tower of righteous fury. It burns in his eyes and his voice as he says again, a pause between each word, “Fuck. Me. Yourself.”

What he feels for this man is not hate, Yusuf realizes, as suddenly and fully as if he has been struck by lightning where he stands. Maybe he has. Something sparks between them, flickering dangerously even as Nicolo’s frown softens and his fiery gaze lowers to Yusuf’s mouth.

Yusuf shoves Nicolo up against the tree and presses their lips together. Nicolo’s fingers bury into his hair. He’s holding Yusuf trapped, lips to lips. Yusuf is a willing prisoner and licks into Nicolo’s mouth.

Their movements are a blur. Gasps and cries born in pleasure are swallowed by the trees. They move together, bodies forming one, and Yusuf knows, it’s not hate. Not at all. In fact, it might be love. 

They fall to the ground, a heap of limbs and sweat. Their fire burns hot and swallows them both.

Only later - much, much later - when they are too tired to continue, they place their foreheads together and breathe. Their kisses now are soft, less for urgency and lust, and more for comfort. For hope. Like making a promise that might one day, so easily, bring love.

“That was not how I envisioned this,” Nicolo admits under the blanket of darkness.

“You envisioned this?”

Nicolo presses his lips to Yusuf’s ear. “Many, many times.”

Yusuf has to laugh. If only he had known the thoughts behind those bright eyes, each time they stared at him. 

“And you?” Nicolo asks.

Yusuf finds Nicolo’s hand and links their fingers together. “I did not understand then,” he says. “But I promise to start envisioning now.”

Nicolo smiles against his ear, and Yusuf turns to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Also thank you to everyone who has kudos'ed and commented on my previous joenicky fics :) I never know what to reply but I see you and I appreciate you so much.


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